


Erised

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Hermione finds herself increasingly, distressingly attracted to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Is it a spell or is it real..?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of my favorite tropes... <3

Warm contentment flooded Hermione to be seated in Hogwarts’ Great Hall, once more, about to begin her final year of learning. Students chattered and laughed and the aroma of the welcoming feast teased her nose. Ginny’s shoulder rubbed hers and Hermione felt a pang, wishing Harry and Ron had returned. The gits weren’t interested in completing their education. Ron was trying out for Quidditch teams and Harry was settling into Grimmauld Place, ridding it of dark magic.

 

Neville, who sat to Hermione’s other side, elbowed her ribs and nodded towards the table at which the professors sat.

 

Headmistress McGonagall stood at one end, awaiting the arrival of the first years. Slughorn, Sprout, Vector, Babbling, Flitwick, Sinistra, Pomfrey, and Trelawney sat at the table, speaking to one another and passing watchful gazes over the students. McGonagall moved away from the table and Hermione finally spotted the reason for Neville’s elbow; Lucius Malfoy.

 

“What the hell?” she gasped, astonished. Lucius Malfoy sat half in shadow as if hiding.

 

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Neville replied bitterly.

 

Hermione passed the elbow and nod to Ginny. As Malfoy was noticed by the Gryffindors, they whispered to the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs; silence spread. The shock echoing through the students was disrupted by the stumbling entrance of the first years, accompanied by Hagrid.

 

Hermione’s gaze found Draco Malfoy and fixed on him, wondering what could possibly transpire to earn his father at seat at that table.

 

After the sorting, McGonagall introduced Lucius as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to unsettled silence. Hermione exchanged disgusted looks with Ginny and they spent dinner exchanging outraged comments.

 

Luna joined Ginny and Hermione in the corridor after dinner as they waited for McGonagall.

 

“Headmistress,” Hermione hailed, remembering to behave respectfully despite her outrage.

 

“Why is Lucius Malfoy teaching here?” Ginny sputtered without the restraint Hermione practiced.

 

Minerva McGonagall adored the girls but she would not accept impertinence.

 

“I’m not in the habit of consulting students on the selection of teaching staff.”

 

“He belongs in Azkaban!” Ginny countered.

 

McGonagall fixed a steely gaze on each of them, signaling the end of the discussion.

 

“If you don’t want to be taught by Professor Malfoy, don’t attend his class. Good night, ladies.”

 

“He’s just gone down towards the dungeons,” Luna said.

 

“Probably to his office,” Hermione muttered.

 

“I’m going,” Ginny announced and marched for the stairwell, not waiting to see if her friends followed.

 

It was folly to confront a professor and demand the reason for their appointment. Regardless, Hermione trailed Ginny. While she was outraged, she was not the sort of student to question authority. At least, not without doing some research, first.

 

“Come in.”

 

Malfoy’s voice made Hermione hesitate. She plucked at Ginny’s robe but the other witch ignored her.

 

“I want an answer,” Ginny breathed as she pushed open the door.

 

Malfoy sat at a massive desk, making notations in a book by the golden light of a lamp.

 

Even seated behind a desk, Lucius Malfoy was an imposing figure. He looked up to find the witches and his expression became guarded.

 

“How may I help you three?” he asked, calculating gaze fixing on them each, in turn.

 

“What are you doing at Hogwarts?” Ginny blurted, temper getting the better of her.

 

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed in thought and he set aside his quill and book.

 

“Because each of you have suffered, due to me in some part, I will indulge a question or two.”

 

Pleasantly surprised at the wizard’s willingness to talk and lack of hostility, Hermione perched on a student desk.

 

“But not apologize,” Ginny countered.

 

“Would an apology make you feel better?” he drawled.

 

“Would you do it again?” she bit.

 

“I will do anything to protect my family...”

 

How could he be faulted for that? Hermione noticed she was warming towards the wizard and struggled to understand why.

 

“Setting Tom Riddle’s diary loose on Hogwarts was supposed to protect your family?”

 

“Ah... I was unaware of the diary’s true nature. For _that_ , I do apologize.”

 

Ginny said nothing more but gave a single, tight-lipped nod.

 

“Ms. Lovegood, I deeply regret your incarceration in my cellars. How are you faring?”

 

Luna smiled and shared her plans to apprentice under Ollivander. Malfoy wished Garrick good health.

 

“Why have you decided to teach?” Luna asked.

 

Leaning back in his chair, Malfoy grudgingly shared that he wished to prevent the young from being manipulated by dark magic.

 

Then, his heavy-lidded gaze found Hermione. “Ms. Granger,” he prompted.

 

“I want nothing from you,” she said softly, coldly, cutting him off. She wasn’t sure she believed him. And, she didn’t trust the careful cordiality of their discussion.

 

Malfoy’s eyes glittered and he went perfectly still, like a predator scenting prey. Before anyone could say more, the door banged open and a gaggle of wizards, led by Draco, filed into the room.

 

“Let’s go,” Hermione suggested to her friends.

 

“Wait,” Lucius’ tone brooked no disobedience. “I want a moment alone with Ms. Granger.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny retorted.

 

Curiosity and appreciation for his gall made Hermione shake her head at Ginny. “It’s fine.”

 

A dismissive gesture from Lucius sent Draco and his friends out of the room. Ginny and Luna followed.

 

“Well?” Hermione prompted.

 

Lucius stood and moved around his desk to lean against it. Hermione would not be intimidated by his proximity.

 

“I was wrong,” he admitted.

 

Hermione mused that the timbre of his voice was pleasant.

 

“Do tell,” she goaded. Lucius Malfoy wanted to win her over? Why bother?

 

“Every decision I made, every action I took against Muggles, was wrong.”

 

Hermione lifted her brows. The new professor was certainly giving her a lot of room for moral judgement.

 

“Is that all?” she asked crisply.

 

Ire visibly filled the wizard. The set of his shoulders went stiff, his hands fisted, and the line of his mouth went hard.

 

Hermione met his outrage with amusement. Did he think he could excuse himself to her? Did he want forgiveness?

 

“Just how much blood is on your hands, Professor?” she asked.

 

His anger left him as quickly as it had found him. His entire stature fell into a hollow, haunted look and Hermione was satisfied. He felt regret. There was no way Lucius Malfoy was that good of an actor.

 

“Ms. Granger,” he began in a thick voice.

 

No, she wanted nothing from him. He didn’t deserve forgiveness.

 

“Good night, Professor,” she replied and left.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oi! Granger!”

 

The witch spun on Draco, ready to duel. He suspected he hadn’t been very subtle, shooting her glances throughout Slughorn’s Potions class.

 

“No need for that,” Draco said, raising empty hands.

 

“It’s not like I’m aiming it at you. What do you want?”

 

Draco took a couple of steps towards her, glancing at the students hurrying by. He didn’t fancy being overheard.

 

“You say something to my father?” he asked in a low tone.

 

“No,” Granger coldly replied.

 

Draco was nonplussed. “No?” he repeated.

 

“Why?” the witch frowned.

 

Leaning closer to her, “Don’t ruin this for him,” Draco said with as much earnestness as he possessed.

             

“Whatever,” she muttered, sheathing her wand and pushing past the wizard for Gryffindor tower.

 

Draco scowled after the witch, aware that Blaise joined him by the sudden smell of his ridiculous cinnamon-scented robes.

 

Zabini gave a low whistle of appreciation for Granger’s sashay and Draco elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“You could do worse,” Zabini smirked.

 

“She’s giving my father a hard time,” Draco muttered.

 

“I’d like her to give _me_ a hard time,” the other wizard snickered as they descended the stairs to the dungeons.

 

“Must everything be an innuendo?”

 

Blaise only grinned.

 

Draco rolled his eyes but found inspiration in Blaise’s words. Imagine Granger’s humiliation if she threw herself at a professor…

 

Parting from Zabini, Draco found an empty classroom and set to work creating an enchantment.

 

~*~

 

When owls began delivering the post, Draco watched eagerly for a lurid pink envelope. He spotted it the moment the school owl appeared and tracked its progress as it glided to land neatly before Hermione Granger.

 

The envelope gained the attention of the witch’s friends and they goaded her to open it.

 

With a small pop, silver glitter exploded and showered down on the witch, accompanied by rolling laughter. Granger looked bewildered as she stood and began dusting it from her robes and hair. Draco didn’t bother to hide his chuckle, imagining what she might do in Defense Against the Dark Arts class today.

 

It was with growing disappointment that Draco watched Granger; she wasn’t more interested in his father than she might be in any other professor. The witch took copious notes and her hand shot into the air at each question. She gave the identical performance he’d witnessed from her in every other shared class. Had his enchantment failed? Or did she carry a charm to prevent subtle spells like enchantments from sticking? The latter was quite possible.

 

Annoyance prompted Draco to take further action. Embarrassing his father and the Gryffindor swot at the same time was too good an idea to waste. If an enchantment was too weak, there were other options. He drew his wand and aimed at Granger beneath his desk.

 

“ _Legilimens_!” he breathed.

 

Rocked by the pace and threads of the witch’s mind, Draco took a moment to center himself and concentrate on his purpose. With focus honed under the heartless tutelage of his Aunt Bellatrix, Draco identified Granger’s thoughts on Lucius. It was intriguing to discover that she was ambiguous about him. With the slightest push of will, Draco nudged her towards warmer regard. As Aunt Bella had taught him, Draco left the witch’s mind slowly.

 

Despite his care, the witch felt something. Her hands rose suddenly to her temples and she gave a small gasp of pain. Draco held his breath, watching her. The moment passed and Hermione appeared to be, once again, following the lesson.

 

~*~

 

In general, Hermione did not acknowledge her birthday. Ginny, however, had other ideas. She had managed to smuggle about twenty students and several cases of Butterbeer into the Room of Requirement.

 

After chugging a Butterbeer as her friends chanted her name, Hermione was led towards a shrouded object. Luna gestured for her to pull the sheet.

 

Appreciative murmurs rose from the crowd as the Mirror of Erised was revealed.

 

“You first, Hermione,” Ginny cried, lifting her bottle in a toast.

 

Familiar with the legendary mirror, Hermione hopped excitedly closer to it.

 

“What the fuck!” Hermione exclaimed, turning red with embarrassment and then white with shock. Her mouth went dry as she ogled the reflection.

 

“What is it?” Luna asked, voice hushed.

 

The room had gone silent at Hermione’s unexpected reaction. Hermione blinked at the mirror and then burst into laughter.

 

“Very funny. Good one. Who did it?”

 

Ginny and Luna exchanged worried glances. Not them, then?

 

“That’s a good bit of magic,” Hermione added, moving quickly away from the mirror.

 

Someone offered Hermione another bottle of Butterbeer; she took it and made short work of it, moving swiftly farther from the mirror.

 

“It wasn’t who you expected,” Luna said softly, eyes goggling at her.

 

“No, it’s a joke,” Hermione said firmly, holding her bottle tight against her chest.

 

Students had lined up to take a turn in front of the mirror; Ginny, first. Hermione watched avidly for their reactions. 

 

Predictably, Ginny looked content with the revelations of the mirror.

 

“ _Not_ a joke,” Luna announced helpfully.

 

Unable to help herself, Hermione grinned at Luna. No one else seemed to experience shock at the mirror’s contents. Maybe someone had charmed the mirror as she looked. She’d have to look again, later. When there were fewer partiers.

 

Just to be sure.

 

Not because she wanted to experience the sight, again.

 

The image was of herself lovingly held by a wizard. Pregnant. A toddler, the spitting image of his father, beside them.

 

Motherhood might be one of her secret desires but it certainly wasn’t her only desire. It was the wizard she couldn’t reconcile with… Never, in her darkest fantasies, had he appeared. It had to be a prank. Ginny, most likely.

 

Luna disappeared from her side to take a turn at the mirror. A smile graced the other witch’s face and Hermione became more convinced that she’d been the victim of a trick.

 

Setting the matter aside for later, Hermione commandeered a third Butterbeer, forced herself to stop obsessing, and socialized with the friends Ginny had rounded up for her party.

 

It took under two hours to drink all of the Butterbeer.

 

Hermione felt thoroughly cheered for her birthday as she bid goodnight to her friends. According to Neville, Ginny left with one of the boys. Finally, only Luna remained. And the mirror.

 

“I’ll be a moment,” Hermione said, determined to prove the first vision false.

 

She stepped carefully before the mirror, and lifted her eyes.

 

Same wizard, different scene. Heat crawled up Hermione like a cat.

 

Lucius Malfoy, sans robes, held her, sans robes, close. The reflected couple were locked in a passionate kiss and Hermione practically felt his hands sliding over her. Warmth spread through her and she swallowed. 

 

“Fuck,” she breathed. She’d never be able to face Professor Malfoy, again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for more..?

Few students, besides Hermione, accepted Professor Malfoy’s offer to teach them to construct armored robes after class. The supplies weren’t cheap and the project would require hard work. Hermione neatly arranged her items while she waited for instruction.

 

Professor Malfoy inspected Hermione’s supplies and she filled with pleasure at his nod. While she was aware that she sought the professor’s approval and attention with increasing frequency, Hermione attributed it to a correlation in increasing respect. Lucius Malfoy _knew_ the Dark Arts; it didn’t hurt that watching him in action was like watching ballet. He was a fine specimen of experience, raised with magic and able to wield it as easily as breathing.

 

Her interest had nothing to do with the rabid fantasies plaguing her mind since her birthday party. None at all.

 

“You seem to be missing enchanted thread, Ms. Morrow. Perhaps Ms. Granger will share some of hers?”

 

Hermione glanced up to hear her name from the professor. She met his gaze and was transfixed; she imagined his hands moving across her back, over her hips, up her ribs and swallowed her rising arousal. 

 

“Yes,” she breathed, aware that her face felt hot.

 

Lucius’ brows drew together as if concerned. Hermione tore her stare from the man and looked blindly down at her table for the thread.

 

Alita Morrow measured a length of her thread and returned the spool with a smirk. It was a proven fact that Slytherins smirked when a plot was afoot. Hermione noted that the witch whispered something to Draco and committed to keeping an eye on him; Lucius may have evolved into a fair professor but Draco had been suspiciously quiet since the start of the year.

 

The professor walked amidst the tables a second time, handing out rolls of parchment that contained detailed instructions. As he neared her, Hermione watched Draco. The younger Malfoy shot her a look that went guilty before breaking away.

 

Suddenly, Hermione was flooded with fury. Draco Malfoy, the _weasel_ , had manipulated her mind to fixate on his father.

 

It couldn’t have been the glitter bomb; Luna had gifted Hermione with a talisman to prevent enchantments from sticking. The tiny bundle of fragrant herbs bound by twine was sewn into Hermione’s robes. No, he must have done something else.

 

Ordinarily, Hermione would have drawn her wand and hexed the prick in front of Merlin and everyone. However, she was curious about his choice to include his father in the prank. Had he no care for the lasting damage he could cause him?

 

“You have your directions. Get started and I’ll assist you, as necessary,” Lucius announced.

 

Why had Draco spelled her to become fascinated with Lucius? The younger Malfoy found Hermione irritating - it couldn’t be he thought her a good match for his father. Would he do something like that just because he found her annoying? Perhaps if she went along with it for a bit, she would find out. 

 

Determined not to be distracted from her new plan, Hermione told herself to set aside her pride and caught the professor’s eye.

 

“Professor,” Hermione said, stepping close to the wizard and lifting a hand to trace the elaborate swirls sewn into his armored robes with a fingertip.

 

“How do I incorporate a design like this?” she asked, looking up at his face through her lashes.

 

To his credit, the professor stepped out of her reach without drawing attention to her inappropriate behavior and haltingly explained that heating the material with her wand would make it pliable enough to set any pattern.

 

 

Hermione managed to catch his arm and gave it a bold caress. “Thank you, Professor.”

 

Lucius gripped her wrist tight and lifted it from his arm. He stepped close, setting off fireworks under Hermione’s skin.

 

“What are you doing, Ms. Granger?” he hissed.

 

“Receiving instruction,” she replied innocently, breathlessly. Meanwhile, her insides were melting in a pool of fire ignited by the crux of her thighs. What spell made witches turn into happy puddles of goo?

 

Lucius’ gaze narrowed at her before he moved along. Hermione finally dared to steal a glance at Draco. His cheeks were pink and he was staring at his workbench, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

 

What would it take to figure out Draco’s scheme?

 

With a mental shrug, Hermione shucked her robe and muttered something about it being too warm to work in. She was left in her skirt, blouse, and tie. She loosened the tie and popped a couple of buttons. Just because she didn’t habitually exploit feminine wiles didn’t mean she didn’t understand the mechanics of deploying them.

 

Hermione easily maintained the pretense of creating armored robes; she truly wanted a set. She concentrated on completing the next steps of the instructions, tailoring the material to her size and casting a series of defensive spells on it.

 

“Professor,” she suddenly hailed. “Would you please hold this for me?”

 

When Lucius appeared at her side, she explained her desire to add designs but that the fabric kept rolling up.

 

Distracted as he kept an eye on the other students, the wizard obliged, pinning one edge of fabric with his hand and the other with the direction of his wand.

 

Elated to be in such close proximity to him, Hermione moved closer and took care to brush against him with every gesture. She positively zinged with nervous desire. When she leaned forward with her wand tip warmed to inlay a runic symbol, she was aware of Lucius’ gaze down her blouse.

 

The fabric curled as the wizard let go and settled his hands on Hermione’s hips, holding her motionless.

 

“Have a care how much heat you apply, Ms. Granger,” he said against her ear.

 

For a startling moment, Hermione felt him, hard as stone, along her buttock.  Fire singed her synapses and she went immobile. It took a moment for Hermione to remember where she was and what she was doing. If she wasn’t so intent on creating armored robes, she would have escaped the room.

 

Her gaze sought Lucius’ and she felt another dart of want rip through her to find him staring pensively back. What on earth was going on?

 

“That’s enough for tonight,” Lucius loudly announced, startling most students. “You may return next Tuesday evening if you wish to continue. Ms. Granger, please remain a moment.”

 

‘ _Not a chance_ ,’ Hermione thought, making a hasty escape with the others.


	4. Chapter 4

“Luna, what are you doing?”

 

Luna had glued herself to Hermione’s side after Advanced Charms and was escorting her towards the dungeon classroom of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

 

“Professor Malfoy asked me to see you safely to class,” she replied with an airy shrug.

 

Hermione felt her face burn. She’d escaped him and he was assuring she didn’t escape, again.

 

“Thank you, Luna, but that isn’t necessary. I promise that I will arrive at class in one piece.”

 

Luna goggled at Hermione for a moment, shrugged again, then drifted away for Advanced Divination.

 

“What was that about?” Ginny asked as they tripped down the stairwell in the crush of other students moving towards their next class.

 

Hermione was unprepared to explain. How would she start? _For some reason, Draco spelled me to be attracted to his father and I’ve fallen into hopeless infatuation._

 

“I’ll tell you later,” was all Hermione could offer as they entered the classroom. Taut with nerves, she sat down and set up her scroll, ink, and quill to take notes. Beside her, Ginny did the same.

 

“Who can describe the signs of a person under an enchantment?” Professor Malfoy asked.

 

Hermione’s heart dropped into her stomach as students’ responses peppered the air. She went temporarily deaf as Lucius Malfoy beckoned her to join him at the front of the classroom. As though in a trance, she suddenly found herself before the wizard. He turned her to face the other students.

 

“If an individual is suspected to be under the sway of a spell, most will be lifted by _Finis A_ _ugurium!_ ”

 

The sting of spell sparks dotted Hermione’s neck where her curls were parted and a warm hand fell on her shoulder. The fingers tightened for a moment as if reassuring her. Unfortunately, they only affirmed that the wizard’s touch still sent rippling waves of heat through her.

 

“Thank you, Ms. Granger. Return to your seat.”

 

The professor resumed the lesson on jinxes and Hermione attempted to appear industrious. She couldn’t bring herself to look up for some time. When she did, she caught the pale gaze of Draco. He winked at her and her palm itched for her wand.

 

When class ended, Lucius was standing beside the door. As Hermione approached, he pointed at her.

 

“Not you.”

 

He didn’t speak again until the couple of remaining students left. Hermione set her books aside; the crackling electricity between them inspired her to keep quick access to her wand.

 

“Are you more yourself, now?”

 

“Not at all...” Hermione replied with a lift of her chin.

 

“...What?”

 

“Your counter spell didn’t work,” she said louder, following him towards his desk.

 

“Not an enchantment, then,” the professor mused.

 

“It _has_ to be magic,” Hermione said, thoughtlessly. Too late, she realized her words might damage the wizard’s ego.

 

“Another spell, I mean,” she amended.

 

“There are no other spells on you, Ms. Granger.”

 

“Why should I believe you?” she countered.

 

The wizard’s eyes flashed with anger. “Because I am competent and it is my job to protect you.”

 

Hermione stared at him and tried desperately not to imagine him naked. “‘I will do anything to protect my family.’ Your words. Draco did this to me.”

 

For a long moment, Lucius stared back at her. Finally, he blinked and muttered, “I need a drink.”

 

Knowing she shouldn’t, Hermione trailed him into the office hidden behind the classroom.

 

With lazy flicks of his wand, Lucius summoned a tumbler of dark liquid. “If Draco enchanted you, he may have tried Legilimency, as well. But the effects would not linger. He is a woefully unskilled Legilimens.”

 

“Are you telling me that the thoughts I’m having are... _mine_?” Hermione clarified, unwilling to believe it.

 

“…Precisely what thoughts are you having?”

 

At that moment, Hermione realized that she was alone with Lucius Malfoy and in his personal rooms. She also realized that he wasn’t discouraging her.  Perhaps her imagination was stimulated by more than spells. Awareness of the wizard spun through her, setting little fires as it danced.

 

“This really isn’t a spell..?”

 

“None that I can detect…”

 

“What do I do..?” she thoughtlessly asked.

 

“What do you want..?” he replied, lifting a brow.

 

Immediately, Hermione’s brain answered ‘you.’ However, her instinct against rule breaking wouldn’t allow her to speak the word. Professor and student was absolutely taboo.

 

She went utterly still, hardly daring to inhale, as Lucius circled her. She could hear him breathing and sense him behind her. Hot fingers touched her wrist and slid slowly up under her sleeve, the material bunching as he traced the line of her arm. His hand slipped to her hip and settled there.

 

“Legally I’m an adult,” she breathed, entranced by Lucius’ touch. No innocent fumblings with Ron or snogging with Viktor had ever kindled such passion under her skin

 

“You’re a student,” Lucius whispered. Regardless of his words, his hand slid across her stomach, igniting more fires.

 

“Your lack of fear is intoxicating.”

 

“Witches fear you?” Hermione asked, barely capable of conversation.

 

“Yes,” he hissed, his voice curling into her ear, sending more heat to her insides.

 

“What do _you_ want, then?” she asked, eyes closed.

 

“I want to possess you in every way,” he said. Another hand joined the first, gently and slowly smoothing its way from her hips to her ribs.

 

Hermione’s heart thumped hard in her chest. She wondered if he felt it.

 

“I want to bend you over my desk,” he continued, a hand moving suggestively to cup her buttock. A moan escaped Hermione’s lips but his roving touch returned quickly to her stomach.

 

“I want to chain you to my bed,” he said. Long fingers mercilessly encircled her wrists and pulled her arms away from her body.

 

Hermione gave a startled gasp but, again, his manipulation of her was too fast for outrage. Besides, her mind was painting delectable pictures of his promises.

 

“I want to watch your lips part as I enter you,” a thumb caressed Hermione’s bottom lip and she touched her tongue to it before it disappeared. She was gratified to hear his voice drop an octave.

 

“I want to hear you moan my name when you come,” his lips moved against her ear through the thick curtain of her curls.

 

“Yes, Lucius,” she hissed.

 

A hand was gently at her throat and the other under her left breast. “I want to watch the pain of ecstasy light your eyes.”

 

Hermione’s panting slowed as he went silent and his hands remained still.

 

“One look from you makes me hard,” he confessed in a groan.

 

Unexpectedly, the warmth of him was pressed along her back and Hermione felt the truth of his words. Weak kneed, she gasped again as his hand swiftly slipped down her torso to rest on her mons.

 

“Are you wet for me?”

 

“Merlin, yes,” she groaned.

 

Like that, his hands fell to her hips and delicately turned her to face him.

 

“Then I do not suffer alone,” he purred, appearing pleased.

 

“Suffer?” Hermione repeated, brain in a fog.

 

“As delectable a temptation you present, I cannot indulge,” he replied, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“Because I’m your student,” she replied as the fog lifted from her mind.

 

“Five points to Gryffindor,” Lucius murmured with a curl of his mouth.

 

With an indignant huff, Hermione stepped out of his grasp. “If you’ve made your point, I’m leaving.”

 

“One last thing,” Lucius said, catching her arm and pulling her into a tight embrace. His pale eyes looked into hers for a moment before he caught her lips in a bruising, demanding kiss.

 

Left breathless and light headed, Hermione eventually found her way to Gryffindor Tower.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hands where I can see them,” Hermione ordered, leveling her wand at Draco’s heart.

 

“I should have known,” he growled.

 

“Yes, you should have,” Hermione replied with a smirk worthy of a Malfoy.

 

Hermione (correctly) guessed that Draco had sent her the letter that showered her with enchanted glitter. She reciprocated with a false plea for his company from Daphne’s younger sister, Astoria. Under the girl’s name, Hermione proposed a solitary rendezvous in the night.

 

So it was that Hermione, finally, held Draco at wandpoint.

 

“Hopefully, you know better than to reach for your wand, Ferret.”

 

“I’m patient. I can wait for you to slip up,” Draco slickly replied, leaning casually against the corridor’s stone wall.

 

“Why did you do it?”

 

He merely narrowed his eyes at her, the same pale eyes as his father.

 

“You have no idea what you’ve set off. My revenge should be worse…” Hermione choked a bit, thinking of Lucius. She felt some small satisfaction in the momentary flash of fear that claimed Draco’s features.

 

_“Locuti Rithimus!”_

 

**The Next Morning**

 

Hermione’s gratification continued into breakfast the next morning. At the Slytherin table, Draco was surrounded by his housemates who occasionally erupted with laughter.

 

Pleased, Hermione swiped a finger through the whipped cream and popped it into her mouth; at the same moment, she shot a glance at the professors. Lucius was watching her. Elated by her small victory over Draco, she slowly withdrew her finger and sensually licked her bottom lip. When the watchful wizard clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, Hermione couldn’t fight her grin.

 

“What’s going on over there?” Ginny asked, peering at the Slytherin table.

 

“Shall we have a look?” Hermione was dying to observe the result of her spell.

 

“Alright,” Ginny agreed.

 

Luna joined their casual progress across the Great Hall.

 

“Com’on Malfoy. Thay thomefing elth!” a lisping second year begged.

 

“Leave me alone or I’ll make you atone!” Draco roared, cheeks pink.

 

Laughter erupted and the wizard stuffed some bread in his mouth, chewing violently.

 

“I don’t get it,” Ginny muttered.

 

Unable to help herself, Hermione leaned over the crowd.

 

“Good morning, Malfoy. How are you feeling?”

 

The ire in the wizard’s face was expected but his vehement grin back was startling.

 

“How do you think I feel? I will force you to kneel! When I stop speaking in rhyme, I’ll arrange the perfect crime.”

 

Ginny and Luna joined the chuckling Slytherins. Hermione nodded in acknowledgement; despite that he’d started it, Draco was unlikely to let their new war rest.

 

~*~

 

_“Finite Incantatem!”_

 

“Thank you, Father,” Draco grumbled. “Everyone else thought it was too funny to help me.”

 

“Ms. Granger..?”

 

“Yes,” Draco admitted.

 

“There will be no retaliation, Draco. This stops now.”

 

Lucius put unspoken meaning into his voice. The tone that brooked serious repercussion for mutiny.

 

“Yes, Father,” Draco agreed, frowning.

 

“Your prank could have cost me my position here,” Lucius added. He wasn’t ready to explain that Draco’s classmate set him afire like no witch, even Narcissa, ever had.

 

“I’m sorry, Father.”

 

Lucius sighed, “It’s alright, son. Now, get to class.”

 

**Two Nights Later**

 

“I cannot stay away,” Hermione said softly to announce her entrance into Lucius’ office.

 

The wizard leaned back in his chair, “No reason that you should.”

 

“Have you changed your mind, then?” Hermione asked, moving around the desk to lean against it; her legs stretched out beside his.

 

“Only you could tempt me,” he replied.

 

Hermione felt a glow at his words. She was beginning to trust him with more than just her formal schooling.

 

“I think of you more than I should…” she whispered. While Hermione’s mind moved at a frightening pace and should could recite her learning with unnerving alacrity, she was unpracticed at putting voice to her desires.

 

As Lucius slowly stood and towered over her, there was something guarded in his expression.  

 

“Tell me this is not a game,” he delicately said.

 

Concerned, Hermione slipped her palms up his arms. Truth was, she couldn’t wait to touch him. How could be possibly think she would mislead him?

 

She shook her head. “Of course not. …I rather wish it was.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“It’s a tragedy soaked in irony,” Hermione explained. Relief filled her to feel his hands finally on her. He settled them on her shoulders and his thumbs gently traced the lines of her collarbones. There was obvious relief in the wizard as well; his features had relaxed. He believed her.

 

“Why ‘tragedy?’”

 

Hermione wished she hadn’t brought it up; but she had and preferred to be honest. “What good can come of…us?”

 

“Spoken like an _inexperienced_ witch…” Lucius murmured, hands slipping up her neck.

 

Annoyance shot through Hermione’s chest; he’d pried it from her and then evaded the discussion. “Really, Professor-”

 

“Tsk, _Lucius_.” Thumbs nudged her jaws.

 

“Sorry. Habit. _Lucius_ , how will this end?”

 

“Tragic, indeed. Ending something before it’s started.”

 

“Lucius,” Hermione chided. “You might as easily be toying with me.”

 

His touch left her neck and picked up her hand.

 

“My dear, once you are no longer a student of Hogwarts, I have every intention of tutoring you in _other subjects_ …”

 

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Hermione sucked in a breath as Lucius drew the tip of her thumb between his lips. The touch of his tongue and gentle scrape of his teeth sent heat roiling through her and elicited a moan from her throat.

 

“I could eat you alive,” he sighed, lacing his fingers through hers.

 

“When I think of you at night, I touch myself…” Hermione confessed, eyes on his large fingers.

 

Lucius groaned and drew her into a punishing kiss. The wizard rewrote her knowledge of kissing, his expert melding of lips and tongues left Hermione breathless. Lucius pressed a chaste kiss to her neck and tucked her head under his chin.

 

“How will I ever last until June with my mind intact?” he mused.

 

**Minutes Later**

 

“Who have you been snogging?” laughed Ginny.

 

Hermione felt her face warm as she smoothed a hand down her curls and hurried from the dungeon stairwell.

 

“Did you just come from the _dungeons_?” Ginny leered.

 

“You smell like cinnamon,” Luna commented to Ginny, earning a glare from the redhead.

 

Hermione shushed them both; Blaise Zabini stood in the entrance to the Great Hall and was shamelessly listening.

 

“How long until curfew?” Hermione whispered.

 

“Not long,” Luna replied with a smile.

 

“Malfoy! Where have you been?” Zabini hollered as, to Hermione’s relief, Draco, not Lucius, ascended the dungeon stairwell.

 

“Let’s duck in here,” Hermione suggested, swinging open the door to an unused classroom.

 

“Merlin’s sweet mother, tell me you are not snogging Draco Malfoy!” Ginny announced as the door shut behind them.

 

Luna’s eyes grew wider and Hermione realized that the situation certainly looked that way, having appeared within moments of each other. Draco had looked a bit rumpled, too.

 

“I swear it’s not Draco,” Hermione gushed. “But, I can’t say who it is.”

 

“When did this happen?” Ginny demanded.

 

“How did it happen?” Luna asked.

 

“I hardly know,” Hermione replied weakly. “It just sort of…happened.”

 

“But it’s not Draco Malfoy,” Ginny said, obviously not convinced.

 

“Never,” Hermione shook her head.


	6. Chapter 6

“Excuse me, Professor. I have a question.”

 

Lucius looked up from the mountain of scrolls on his desk and Hermione was gratified to read pleasure in his gaze.

 

“Ask away,” he invited.

 

“During the holidays, off school grounds, am I still your student?”

 

A rare smile curled Lucius’ mouth. If Hermione didn’t know better, she’d call him amused.

 

“No plans with family or friends?” he asked.

 

“The short answer is no,” Hermione replied, setting aside thoughts of her family. She didn’t want to explain her lack of parents to a former Death Eater.

 

With a lazy stretch of his arms, Lucius stood and moved around the desk to stand near her.

 

“I’ll make arrangements and send you an owl.”

 

“Are you sure..?” Hermione asked, concerned by the speed with which Lucius agreed. He couldn’t have properly considered the consequences.

 

“It was your suggestion,” Lucius chuckled.

 

“But, I don’t want to jeopardize your position here.”

 

“We will be discrete. Let me worry about that, hm?

 

Elated that Lucius was acting on her idea, Hermione added playfully, “Too bad you won’t get to bend me over your desk…”

 

When Lucius failed to reply she found him watching her with a strange glint in his eye.

 

“What’s an unusual word that you would never speak accidentally?” he asked.

 

Blinking at the abrupt change of subject, Hermione thought for a moment. “Er, Woodson.”

 

Swiftly, and with firm but gentle handling, Lucius pushed her over the surface of his desk. Parchment crinkled under her palms and she struggled to catch her breath. One unrelenting hand between her shoulder blades held her pinned. Helplessness and vulnerability rocked her for a moment before she recalled her teasing remark.

 

“If I ever do something that you want to stop, say ‘Woodson.’ It is your safe word. Understand?”

 

“Yes,” Hermione said in a small voice.

 

“I don’t hear anything… You must be comfortable,” Lucius purred in her ear.

 

Despite herself, Hermione giggled. How could she possibly contemplate comfort when the sexiest, most desirable wizard on the planet had captured her in a compromising position?

 

A shoe swiftly and expertly kicked the outsoles of Hermione’s shoes, pushing her feet apart, and she gasped. If she’d felt vulnerable before, it was nothing to the sensation of feeling Lucius standing between her obscenely spread legs.

 

When Lucius leaned over her and hands gripped her hips, molding her against his prominent erection, an uncontrollable moan escaped her.

 

“I believe this qualifies as ‘bent over my desk’, my dear,” he taunted and then stepped away.

 

It took Hermione a moment to gather herself and stand up. She suspected that her face was red. She felt like a cat rubbed backwards. She wanted Lucius desperately. It was a bit mad how single-minded she was becoming.

 

As if he could read her thoughts, Lucius swept close. “Don’t be embarrassed by your desires.”

 

Unable to speak, Hermione replied with an understanding nod.

 

“You are young… Perhaps I shouldn’t-”

 

“No,” Hermione interrupted firmly. “Don’t you dare say it.” If he thought for one minute that she was too young for him, she would be only too happy to prove him wrong.

 

Lucius held up his hands. “I was going to say perhaps I shouldn’t rush you.”

 

“I’m a quick study, Professor,” Hermione said mischievously and winked at Lucius before sauntering out of his office.

 

**Two Days Before Christmas Holiday**

 

“You almost missed the meal, Ginny. Goodness! Is that cinnamon?” Hermione asked, waving a hand in front of her nose to ward off the overpowering scent.

 

Ginny shrugged and began filling her plate.

 

“Worked late on a potion,” Ginny muttered around a mouthful of chicken.

 

“There’s glitter in your hair…” Hermione noted. “You big liar!” she suddenly hissed. “ _You’ve_ been snogging someone! Oh! Who do I know that smells like cinnamon..?”

 

Ginny turned her light brown eyes on Hermione. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

 

Hermione broke into a grin. Her mind moved easily to Lucius and she sat motionless for a bit, dwelling on him. She had stayed away from him other than class and the armored robes project. On occasion, he had slipped her sultry looks and subtle pinches to her bum. Hermione knew that if she entered his office, again, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from mauling him.

 

That morning, an owl had delivered the note she had been eagerly awaiting. It contained only Apparition coordinates but she would not set it aside. Even now, it was tucked inside her robe beside her breast. The train to King’s Cross Station couldn’t come fast enough.

 

“You’re going home for Christmas, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Ginny said. “And I’m taking my cinnamon-scented boyfriend with me. Mum and Dad will shit Quaffles.”

 

Hermione chortled.

 

“I notice you packed. Where are you going?” Ginny asked, gulping pumpkin juice.

 

“I’m meeting my – _boyfriend_.” Hermione scowled. That didn’t sound right. He was older than her father. She fought the urge to glance at him; Ginny was watching.

 

“You haven’t made it official, then?”

 

Hermione shook her head, being careful not to look towards him.

 

“You’ve _done it_ though, right?”

 

Hermione shook her head again. “We wanted to wait.”

 

“What on earth for?” Ginny trilled and emptied her cup.

 

“Be louder, Gin, please.”

 

“To each, their own,” the redhead muttered, digging into the treacle tart.

 

Hermione grinned, reminded of Ron’s swallow-it-whole eating habits. While she and Ron had entertained a relationship towards the end of the war, it was immediately obvious that they made better plutonic friends. They parted on good terms and Ron went on to pursue Quidditch.

 

“Going to wrap yourself in a big, red bow?”

 

Hermione grinned and leaned conspiratorially towards her friend, “Good idea.”

 

**Two Days Later**

 

Hermione inhaled a sharp breath as she Apparated onto a snowy mountaintop. The cold could freeze the tails off a Crup but Hermione moved towards a spacious balcony to take-in the view. Pristine, snow-capped mountains surrounded the one she stood upon with valleys of green below.

 

“Ms. Granger,” Lucius said, joining her to admire the scenery.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said and shivered.

 

“Luggage?” he asked.

 

“Shrunken in my pocket,” her breath made white puffs in the cold.

 

“Shall we go in?”

 

Lucius took her arm and steered her towards a stunning Swiss style chalet.

 

“Lucius,” Hermione said softly, suddenly bubbling with tension and insecurities.

 

“My dear,” he replied.

 

“What if...” she couldn’t bring herself to give voice to her thoughts. They were finally alone. What if he didn’t enjoy being with her outside of Hogwarts? What if she was only enticing there? What if he was angry to discover the true depths of her inexperience? She’d been quite bold with him. Did he expect to pick up where they’d left off weeks ago?

 

“Let’s settle in and then explore, hm?”

 

Touched by his thoughtful offer, Hermione squeezed his arm. Some of her tension eased and she relished the sensation of being beside him, even through their layers of cloaks and robes. Lucius Malfoy was unexpectedly considerate. 

 

The heavy wood door swung open at their approach and they made their way to the reception desk. At the sight of a couple ahead of them, Hermione parted from Lucius to look around. The interior of the chalet was much more expansive than the exterior. A massive fireplace dominated the center of the lobby, its grey stone countenance reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Fresh pine boughs, cream-colored candles, and clusters of red holly berries were the tasteful nod towards Christmas decorations.

 

Rejoining Lucius, Hermione felt a bit surreal; it was as if she wasn’t yet convinced that she was where she was.

 

“We have a reservation under Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.”

 

Hermione glanced at him, a little skittish, once more. She was grateful he’d suggested exploring after they unpacked; less pressure and a bit of time for them to find ease with one another. After all, there was a chasm of difference between stolen moments of flirtatious snogging and sharing a room for two weeks.

 

The lobby door swung open and it took Hermione a split second to recognize the new arrival.

 

“Oh, shit!” she squeaked and ducked away from Lucius. She hurried to round the fireplace, opposite of Draco Malfoy. _What the hell was he doing there?_

 

“Father! The house-elf told me you were here…”

 

“Draco! What a pleasant surprise,” Lucius replied, sounding strained.

 

“I thought you were going to visit Grandmother in Rouen.”

 

“I changed my mind.”

 

Hermione chanced a glance around the fireplace and met Lucius’ shocked glance with her own. 

 

“Mind if I share your room? I don’t have a reservation.”

 

“What happened to your plans?” Lucius asked pointedly.

 

“Zabini has a new girlfriend. He’s been invited to stay with her family.”

 

Hermione closed her eyes as she realized her plans with Lucius were awash. All of her worry was for naught. She’d have to leave. At least Draco hadn’t seen her. She chanced a final glance at Lucius but he was facing the reception witch, once more.

 

Hood pulled up tight, she hustled out the door for the Apparition point and Disapparated.


	7. Chapter 7

“Merlin’s wand!” escaped Hermione’s lips before she could stop herself.

 

“You know that’s a euphemism for his penis, don’t you?”

 

“Hello, erm. Is Harry here?” Hermione asked, brows drawn, attempting her level best to come to terms with Pansy Parkinson opening the door to 12 Grimmauld Place.

 

Pansy gave Hermione a wry glance up-then-down; “Yes. Won’t you come in?”

 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, following Pansy into the ancient house. A glance upwards told her that Walburga Black’s portait had finally come down. She’d have to ask how Harry managed that.

 

“Cat’s out of the bag, Potter,” Pansy sang down the tight corridor.

 

“Who is it?” Harry asked, his messy-haired head popping out from one of the doorways. “Hermione!”

 

“Sorry to drop in,” Hermione offered, stepping into Harry’s arms for a hug.

 

“You’re always welcome here. You know that,” Harry replied, grinning. “And, I imagine you remember Pansy,” he added, green eyes, bright.

 

“I do,” Hermione nodded at Pansy, feeling awkward. “I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.”

 

“Not at the moment,” Pansy said with a sly wink at Harry. “Come in, won’t you? Have some tea?”

 

“Thank you,” Hermione replied as Harry took her cloak.

 

They followed Pansy down to the cozy kitchen where a house-elf was already puttering. Hermione hadn’t been in it since their horcrux hunting days and she filled with reminiscence as they took seats at the table. The room had changed a bit, it was certainly cleaner, but the smell of good cooking was the same.

 

“Tea?” the little creature asked.

 

“For three,” Pansy said.

 

At that, Hermione knew she wouldn’t get alone time with Harry and she decided her needs could wait.

 

“I’ve got to know. How did you two get together?” she asked.

 

Pansy exchanged a look with Harry and lifted her brows. “Shall I?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes; “Witches. Should I just come back later?”

 

“Yes, that’d be capital,” Pansy laughed.

 

Cups of steaming tea settled in front of them.

 

“Thank you, Taffy. Cream or sugar – Hermione?”

 

Hermione shook her head.

 

“I was shopping for a rug and I bumped into Pansy-”

 

“You knocked me over on purpose,” Pansy teased.

 

Grinning with unabashed happiness, Harry looked so content that Hermione warmed towards Pansy. Harry might be a bit of an idiot about girls but he saw through bullshit better than most. He looked at Pansy Parkinson like she hung the moon; Hermione would give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had room to be judgmental…

 

By the time they’d eaten dinner and moved into a sitting room, Hermione was at ease with the other witch.

 

“Are you spending the holidays with your family?” Pansy asked.

 

“I’m not. But I did drop by to see them,” Hermione replied slowly. “My parents live in Australia and they have no memory of me.” She clasped her shaking hands.

 

Eyes wide, Pansy froze as Hermione continued to explain.

 

“They’re Muggles. I Obliviated them and encouraged them to move to spare them the war… They have a three-year-old daughter and I can’t bring myself to disrupt their lives-” Hermione was unable to continue. While watching them, she’d decided it was finally time to stop visiting. They didn’t know her and she couldn’t imagine ever attempting to upend their lives without guilt.

 

Pansy moved to sit beside Hermione and offered her a tissue box.

 

“So, you saw them through the windows.”

 

Hermione nodded and dabbed at her eyes. 

 

“Be glad you sent them away. My little sister’s name was Peregrine. She never even got to attend Hogwarts.”

 

Hermione filled with horror for Pansy and, like that, knew they would be on accord. She also gained some insight into why Pansy and Harry would click.   

 

“You’re spending your holiday randomly visiting family and friends?” Harry prompted.

 

“Too shrewd for your own good, Harry,” Hermione muttered. “I was supposed to meet my – _boyfriend-_ at a resort but his son turned up and I escaped before he saw me.”

 

Harry’s brows went up.

 

“Granger! My estimation of you just went up! He’s got a grown son! And you’re hiding things from him? Naughty,” Pansy said saucily. “ _Is he married_?”

 

“No, he’s a widower,” Hermione replied. “But I don’t know how things will work out… We don’t exactly chat…”

 

“Potter, I do believe Hermione is in need of some girl talk. Why don’t you go away for a bit?”

 

Harry waited for Hermione’s nod of agreement before leaving the room. He dropped a kiss on Pansy’s head on his way out. Hermione didn’t miss the other witch’s glee.

 

“You two are good together,” Hermione said wistfully. It would be lovely to have that kind of openness and affection with a wizard.

 

“I think so,” Pansy grinned. “So, you and Lucius Malfoy, huh?”

 

Hermione felt her face go hot. _How did she know?_

 

“Yes,” she breathed, mind going gooey just thinking of him.

 

“You’ve been at Hogwarts, he’s a widower with a grown son… If you make each other happy, tell Draco. He’d be ecstatic to see his father content.”

 

“But there isn’t anything to tell… At least, not yet… We agreed to meet during the holidays but Draco followed and I Disapparated. I don’t know what Lucius is thinking or what he wants. It’s just been all physical…”

 

Pansy blinked at her.

 

“You and Lucius have been ‘ _physical’_..?”

 

“Just…snogging,” Hermione answered lamely. How could she explain it?

 

“You’ve been hot and heavy in broom closets?” Pansy clarified with a wide grin.

 

“Something like that,” Hermione muttered. “But there’s more…”

 

“Do tell,” Pansy purred.

 

“I went back to Hogwarts and Headmistress McGonagall asked me to consider staying on to teach Transfiguration…”

 

“How is that _not_ an ideal situation..?”

 

“What if things…go bad between us?”

 

“You think too much, Granger,” Pansy said, shaking her head. “He’s a grown wizard. He’s mature enough to handle a situation like that. He’s not Ronald Weasley,” Pansy added.

 

Hermione looked at the floor. Pansy was right. She was overthinking everything.

 

“You’re legally an adult. He certainly is. Go enjoy each other and stop worrying about tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you,” Hermione breathed, grateful to have the witch’s perspective. And support.

 

Pansy leaned towards Hermione with a wicked gleam in her eyes; “Incidentally, how is Lucius at snogging?”

 

Hermione laughed. “I wouldn’t describe what we’ve done as snogging, really. It’s more like fucking with our clothes on.”

 

Pansy burst into surprised laughter and then sighed. “That wizard is sex on legs. I’d be jealous if I wasn’t in lo-”

 

“A relationship?” Hermione finished. Harry and Pansy must be rather new; it was endearing to learn that Pansy loved him and Hermione warmed all the more towards her.

 

Pansy smiled and rolled her eyes; “Gryffindors.”

 

Hermione laughed, feeling more relaxed and content than she had in some time. With her indecision settled, a pang of longing for Lucius shot through her.

 

“I suggest you go back to Hogwarts and, if he’s not already there, go back to that resort…”

 

Hermione smiled. It would be funny to see the look on Draco’s face when she knocked on their door at the resort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite enjoy writing Pansy <3


	8. Chapter 8

Apparating to Hogsmeade Station into the silence of snowfall was a lovely experience after the noise of Islington where 12 Grimmauld Place was nestled. Hermione loved Hogsmeade and Hogwarts and everything about the area. She could see herself happily settled at the castle for countless years.

 

The trek from the station to the castle was a long one and Hermione rued her dislike for brooms; if she’d figure out how to sit one, at least her feet would be dry. As it was, she used the time spent walking to rationalize out her plans for the future.

 

Without parents guiding her, Hermione hadn’t given serious thought to a career. While she’d had the luxury of parents, she’d been following Harry’s missions. Not that she begrudged the role she’d played in the war, in the least. It had been exciting to be part of the trio battling Voldemort. But she was bereft of a plan.

 

Teaching Transfiguration would be exciting, too. Helping young witches and wizards learn complicated magic would be challenging in itself. Hermione was one who eagerly met challenges.

 

And, then, there was Lucius.

 

Hermione’s heart sped remembering each of their encounters. While Pansy had a point about him being capable of adapting, no matter their circumstances, Hermione couldn’t help but hesitate, again. Despite their explosive chemistry, she was simply scared to get attached to someone about whom she knew so little.

 

Upon reaching the castle, Hermione checked-in with Professor Slughorn, the first teacher she could find. Very few professors and fewer students had remained for the holiday. The evening meal was a pitiful bore until Lucius Malfoy took a seat with the professors.

 

He exchanged a lingering look with Hermione, setting her insides afire. She fancied he was trying to tell her something and graced him with a small grin. Warmth filled her to look upon him, once more. She’d missed him. Appetite gone, Hermione escaped the Great Hall to unpack her trunk.

 

Knowing Lucius could not easily seek her, Hermione decided she would go to him. He was in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, almost hidden amidst stacks of books.

 

At her entrance, Lucius immediately stood, gaze warm. “Forgive me,” he said, carefully extracting himself from the dusty tomes.

 

“There is nothing to forgive,” Hermione replied.

 

“If I hadn’t told the house-elf where I was going…”

 

Hermione looked away, hating her own thoughts. “If we can’t tell Draco, maybe we shouldn’t do anything. And, there isn’t anything to tell. …Yet.”

 

Sounding exasperated, Lucius said, “You are determined to put a stop to something that hasn’t started.”

 

“Perhaps I should,” Hermione said softly.

 

They were silent for a moment, eyeing one another.

 

“If that is what you wish,” Lucius said darkly.

 

“McGonagall has asked me to teach Transfiguration.”

 

“Seems a good fit,” Lucius replied, tone icy and clipped.

 

“If I remain here, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay away from you,” Hermione attempted to explain, insides chilling in the face of Lucius’ old indifference.

 

“My dear, if you wish to be acquaintances, we will be acquaintances,” Lucius retreated into the pile of books.

 

Hermione’s hands went numb. All of his familiarity and warmth had vanished.

 

“Is it that easy?” she asked, feeling her heart stutter.

 

Lucius’ pale gaze was unsympathetic. “ _It would be excruciating_. …But I do not pressure witches with unwelcome attention.”

 

Hermione had not intended to hurt or insult Lucius. She’d had no idea she could have that kind of impact on him.

 

“I need some time,” she said, barely able to speak for the ache blossoming in her chest.

 

“Good night, Ms. Granger,” Lucius said, cruelly dismissive.

 

**Next Day**

 

It was after breakfast when Draco hailed Hermione.

 

“Granger!”

 

Exhaustion made Hermione slow to react when Draco took her elbow and directed her to a lonely corridor. She yanked her arm free and drew her wand.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Put that away,” he hissed. “I’ve never met a dumber smart person than you, Granger.”

 

The viciousness of Draco’s venom awoke Hermione. She hadn’t slept at all, deeply sad about the way she’d left things with Lucius. But she wasn’t about to allow Draco Malfoy to get the better of her.

 

Red sparks sputtered from the tip of her wand between them.

 

“I’ve never met a smarter dumb person,” she retorted. “Don’t lay your hands on me, again.”

 

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “It was supposed to be a joke - you and my father.”

 

At that Hermione lowered her wand. _What did he know?_

 

“He told me,” Draco said as if following her thoughts. “At least you look as bad as him.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“My father hasn’t cared about anything but me in years. Here, he changed. He seemed almost happy. Then, he told me about you when I showed up at that resort in Switzerland but one night back here and he’s changed. You’ve done something. Fix it, Granger. Fix it or I’ll-”

 

“You’ll what? Threaten me until you’re blue in the face, ferret? Hex me? Curse me? I dare you to try it.”

 

Hermione sheathed her wand and shot Draco one last warning look before turning away.

 

“Don’t tell him I spoke to you,” Hermione heard Draco say as she turned the corner.

 

Tears spilled down Hermione’s cheeks and she hurried for the girls’ toilet.

 

_Lucius had told Draco._

 

Even though there wasn’t anything to tell, _Lucius had told Draco._

 

Did this mean Lucius felt more than simple lust for her? Hermione’s chest clenched as a sob stuck in her throat. She had well and truly fucked up. _Lucius had told Draco and that changed everything._

 

Face, dry, Hermione made her way back to Lucius’ classroom. He glanced up from his book at her entrance.

 

“Ms. Granger,” he said, mouth a tight line.

 

Bruised heart thumping, Hermione levitated a stack of his books away from him.

 

“Will you do something for me?” she asked.

 

“That depends on what it is,” he replied, brow lifted as she levitated another tower of books away, settling it onto the floor.

 

“Look into the Mirror of Erised,” Hermione said softly, moving another tower.

 

“I know what I will see,” Lucius scowled.

 

“What?” Hermione asked settling the last stack of books onto another desk.

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” he growled.

 

“You might be surprised,” Hermione replied, annoyance creeping into her tone.

 

“You have the world at your feet. Don’t let my, or anyone else’s, wishes set your path,” Lucius said bitterly, finally closing his book.

 

“What is it you would see?”

 

Lucius stood and braced his arms on the back of the chair. “I’ve decided to resign.”

 

“What?” Hermione gasped, panicking.

 

“I will not be the reason you leave here.”

 

“But your students, your convictions…” Hermione heard her voice rising in pitch but couldn’t’ help herself. He couldn’t leave. Not now.

 

“Damn my convictions!” he bit.

 

He would abandon his passion, his mission, for her?

 

“What would you see in that mirror?” Hermione whispered, more convinced that he’d grown to care for her.

 

Lucius looked away from her. Perhaps it was punishing, but Hermione chose to exploit his desire and moved around his desk to place her trembling hands on either sides of his face. She was a little shaken by her own boldness.

 

“Lucius.”

 

“You’re too young to understand, girl,” he hissed.

 

He would use her age to hurt her? Hermione huffed, “But not too old to fuck, is that it?”

 

Fury instantly burning in his gaze, Lucius stepped closer to her, boots tapping her shoes, towering threateningly over her. He gripped Hermione’s wrists and shoved her arms away.

 

“You, you little witch! I would see nothing but you! I eat, sleep, breathe, and want you!” he roared.

 

Breath short, quaking with disbelief, Hermione blinked at the wizard. She’d never seen wrath from him, before. Lucius stalked away from her.

 

“You consume my every thought… It’s madness…” he hissed.

 

Hermione followed him and brazenly wrapped her arms around him, hugging his back. “It’s a madness I share, then. The first time I looked in the mirror, I was under Draco’s sway. But, today, the reflection would be the same.”

 

Relief and fire sparked within her to feel his hands smooth gently up and down her arms. But, he gently separated from her.

 

“What is it you want, then?” he asked. “I cannot withstand being toyed with.”

 

“I _never_ meant to toy with you, Lucius. I want you to kiss me,” Hermione said, closing the distance between them, leaning into him.

 

“I won’t stop,” he breathed.

 

“I don’t want you to stop.” She was done waiting. She was done worrying about consequences. She wanted Lucius, the world be damned.

 

Lucius swiftly bent and scooped her up as if she was as light as a feather and Hermione sucked in a breath. He carried her through his office and around a corner to his bed.

 

Heart pounding, Hermione pressed her lips to every bit of him that she could reach.

 

“Please, Lucius,” she begged, the cool linen of the bedspread caressing her arms as he set her gently down.

 

All chill, all hesitation, had fallen from his pale eyes. He was the Lucius she’d been seduced by, once more. Perhaps more raw, more filled with need. His movements were strong, purposeful. Cold metal encircled Hermione’s wrists and she gasped. He was chaining her arms down.

 

“Lucius, no. I want to touch you… Please,” she begged.

 

The wizard graced her with a heavy-lidded glance and sly grin. “You’re in such a hurry… And you’ve no idea how much I enjoy hearing you beg.”

 

He tongued her ear and Hermione inhaled in bliss as hot pleasure curled through her limbs.

 

“Lock the doors?” she breathlessly asked.

 

“Merlin, himself, couldn’t get through,” Lucius purred, pressing his lips to Hermione’s throat and nibbling at the soft skin of her neck. The cloth of her robes ripped down the front and cool air puckered her nipples.

 

“I want to undress you,” Hermione whined.

 

Lucius shook his head, “The more clothes I’m wearing, the longer this will last.”

 

“Perhaps you should be the one tied down,” Hermione teased.

 

“Next time, darling,” Lucius promised, his head dipping towards her breasts.

 

Wet lips encircled Hermione’s left areola and suckled, tugging an invisible thread that reached straight to the crux of her thighs, bringing a rush of damp heat. By the time Lucius had moved to press kisses down her stomach, Hermione was a gasping, frustrated, taut knot of want.

 

“Please, Lucius… Please…” she pleaded mindlessly.

 

“I like the sound of you moaning my name like that…” he purred.

 

The manacles fell from Hermione’s wrists and she wasted no time in pulling Lucius’ lips to her own. She’d forgotten how well he kissed and she was immediately lost under his expert mouth. His warm hands slipped down her torso, pushing her torn robes aside, exploring her bare skin. Hermione broke their kiss and gasped when his hand reached her hot center. She mewed into his neck as his fingers gently discovered her folds.

 

“Lucius,” she breathed, inexpertly tugging at his robes. “I want to touch you.”

 

“Of course, darling,” he whispered, sitting up on his knees.

 

Hermione watched him through ravenous eyes as he quickly pulled his robe and white under-robe over his head. There it was; Lucius’ bare skin. Hermione sat up and began pressing butterfly-light kisses to him. When her lips encountered scars, she traced the lines with her mouth and was gratified to hear him pant at the touch of her tongue.

 

“Hermione,” he breathed, pressing her back. “I can wait no longer.”

 

“Don’t,” she replied, filling with giddy joy as he situated himself between her knees.

 

She felt him, solid velvet, push slowly into her folds. He moved against her, becoming slippery with her juices. Bubbling heat roared through Hermione as she felt him push insistently at her core, nudging slowly inside. She knew to expect pain but it wasn’t sharp, it was dull and seemed to pass quickly.

 

“Darling?” Lucius rasped.

 

Hermione opened her eyes to find Lucius’ countenance above her and smiled. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a lazy kiss to his jaw. She sucked in a breath as he began moving slowly in and out of her depths. As he moved, a glow of warmth began to build inside of her. He stoked it higher with each thrust.

 

The sound of Lucius’ breath coming shorter and harsher made Hermione’s insides clench; he gasped her name over and over, moving faster and harder. Suddenly, Hermione fell into blackness and bliss corrupted all of her senses. She was vaguely aware of Lucius joining her in climax. 

 

Lucius gathered her close and she curled up in his arms, content. She never wanted to be anywhere else.


	9. Epilogue

It was the last day of the school year. Hermione was perched on her desk, chatting with Ginny and Blaise, her cinnamon-scented boyfriend. Draco joined them and shot Hermione a coy glance.

 

“You know how to cast one, don’t you?”

 

“As does Ginny,” Hermione replied. Due to her love, yes _love_ , for Lucius, Hermione had managed to overcome her dislike for his son and form a tenuous truce. It helped that Ginny was dating Draco’s best friend; they spent quite a bit of time together. Even Astoria proved to be quite lovely - for a Slytherin.

 

Hermione and Lucius had managed to maintain their secret. She was able to behave as an attentive student during Defense Against the Dark Arts and keep herself from climbing him like a tree when he wandered near her desk. At night, she slipped into his bed without a care for the rest of the world. Somehow, they remained undiscovered.

 

“Let’s see,” Blaise prodded, dark eyes fondly fixed on his girlfriend.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes but Hermione knew she was pleased. She slipped away from the wizard and drew her wand. After a moment, she cast the spell.

 

“ _Expecto Patronum_!”

 

A flash of silvery light cascaded across the classroom and began to form a shape. A giant snake hung coiled in the air. It reared its head and began slithering around the walls.

 

“Ginny,” Hermione breathed. “That’s not the Patronus I know…”

 

The redhead cringed. “Apparently, I’m in love,” she muttered back.

 

“You have a snake for a Patronus. Very intriguing Ms. Weasely,” Lucius said, watching the smoky spell dissipate. “Can you cast the Patronus Charm, as well, Ms. Granger?”

 

Hermione smiled and looked at Lucius through her lashes. “Of course I can, Professor.”

 

“How do you do it?” Lucius asked, standing rather closer than he should but the rest of the class were involved in visiting before summer began. They didn’t care that the professor was chatting with a couple of students.

 

“You’ve never cast one?” Hermione asked, genuinely surprised.

 

Lucius shook his head.

 

“The Patronus Charm calls forth a magical guardian, an animal you feel deep affinity with. It is a projection of positive feelings and takes great concentration. Most don’t cast a corporeal Patronus on their first try,” Hermione explained.

 

Lucius closed his eyes for a moment and then gave Hermione an affectionate glance before he cast.

 

_“Expecto Patronum!”_

 

If it was possible, Lucius’ spell burned brighter than Ginny’s as it soared and then settled and formed. A sleek jaguar stalked through the air, its smoky pelt spotted with white. The class couldn’t help but watch, now.

 

“Your turn,” Lucius said, winking at Hermione.

 

With a saucy flourish, Hermione pulled her happiest memories to the forefront of her mind, ALL of them involving the wizard watching her, and chanted.

 

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_

 

As the spell light zipped across the room, Hermione was mildly surprised to see that her own Patronus had changed. It was no longer an otter. A peacock took wing and circled the jaguar. It settled on the great cat’s shoulder, looking utterly at ease.

 

There was a smattering of applause from the students but they quickly went back to their conversations.

 

The two Patronus’ dissolved together and Hermione met Draco’s glance before meeting Lucius’. She shrugged at Draco and winked at his father.


End file.
